


Midnight Wanders

by Blink_Blue



Series: Tumblr Prompts (Coliver) [6]
Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Jealousy, M/M, Makeup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 14:24:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5459672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blink_Blue/pseuds/Blink_Blue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A difference of opinion leads to an unexpectedly heated argument.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight Wanders

“Why are you making such a big deal out of this, Connor?”

Connor whips around and sends a scathing glare towards his boyfriend. He shrugs off his jacket with more force than necessary and throws it onto the couch. Oliver’s eyes follow where the jacket lands–good–he knows Oliver hates it when he leaves his stuff lying around. 

Connor takes a deep, shuttered breath–-he doesn’t want to shout, he doesn’t want to argue at all. But the whole way home, Oliver refused to listen to his point of view. They had taken a taxi back from the bar. One of Oliver’s coworkers had just gotten engaged and they went out to celebrate. For the sake of the taxi driver, they kept their voices at a minimum or said nothing at all, waiting until they got back to the privacy of their own home to argue.

“That guy was blatantly hitting on you,” Connor finally says. “The least you could have done was tell him to fuck off.”

Oliver huffs out a laugh, like he finds the idea completely ridiculous. It does sound pretty silly, because Connor is the hot one who’s turning away men and women every time they go out. “Okay, one: no, he wasn’t. And two: that would’ve been incredibly rude.”

“Who cares?” Connor asks incredulously. “He’s a stranger. So–so maybe you tell him you have a boyfriend. Tell him you’re not interested, anything,  _literally anything_ , except flirt back.”

“I was not flirting with him!” Oliver insists.

“Yes, you were.”

“I think you’re imagining things.” Oliver brushes him off and tries to walk past him towards their bedroom. He just wants this stupid argument over and done with.

“Oliver, I’m not kidding around.” Connor says seriously. “Stop treating this like a joke.”

Oliver sighs as he turns around to face him. “I’m not. I just… I wasn’t flirting.”

Connor grits his teeth before giving his boyfriend a wry smile. “You know the really nervous, super cute, eager laughter thing that you do? That’s flirting. Yeah, I recognize it, because I’ve been on the receiving end of that.”

Any hope that Oliver had that this might have been a light hearted difference of opinion, instead of a full fledged argument fades as a feeling of defensiveness overtakes him. “That’s not–that’s not what I was doing. Why are you getting all bent out of shape over this?”

“I’m sorry,” Connor laughs sardonically. “My boyfriend is flirting with other guys, but yeah, maybe–maybe I should just let it go.”

“We were just talking, Connor. It’s harmless!”

“You’re such a fucking hypocrite,” Connor spits out.

“Excuse me?” Oliver asks, finally raising his voice.

“If it was me flirting with other guys, I’d never hear the end of it.”

The way Oliver refuses to meet his eyes tells him all he needs to know.

“Well?!” Connor demands.

“Look I wasn’t–” Oliver stammers. “It’s not a big deal–”

“Are you kidding me?” Connor hisses at him. A part of him had been wishing that it was all in his head, that he was imagining all of it, because this is nothing like the Oliver he knows. 

“It’s not like it would have led to anything.” Oliver says defensively. “I was just… having fun.” He sighs when Connor doesn’t answer, and wrings both hands through his hair, an action more characteristic of his boyfriend than himself. “Look, I never had a chance to… to be that outgoing and… confident. It’s kind of new to me.”

“What are you saying?” Connor asks softly as he struggles to understand.

Oliver shrugs. “Before I met you… I was shy, and I could never talk to guys. And they were never interested anyway. But–I don’t know, it’s kind of exciting. It’s fun. I’m sorry, I never meant anything by it. Obviously, I was never going to pursue it. It was… just for fun.”

“This is not okay,” Connor says in a low voice. He’s trying really hard to stay calm. The last thing he wants to do is overreact. The situation may be completely new to him–after all, he’s never had a real boyfriend. But the rules should be simple enough. Monogamous relationship means no flirting with other guys. Oliver should understand that. 

“I’m sorry,” Oliver says softly. “But it’s not like I’m cheating on you, I wasn’t about to sleep with the guy!”

“He doesn’t fucking know that! All he sees is some cute guy flirting and making googly eyes at him!”

“I said I’m sorry,” Oliver says tersely. “Can we just let it go?”

“Don’t do it again.” Connor demands.

Oliver blinks. That’s the last thing he wants to hear right now. He may have been in the wrong, but Connor acting like the righteous, know-it-all boyfriend just takes it a step too far. “Don’t tell me what to do, Connor.”

Connor scoffs and fights the urge to tear his hair out with his bare hands. This is why he’s avoided relationships his whole life. Because when two people disagree, they fight, and when people fight, someone always ends up getting hurt. He finally shakes his head and looks up at Oliver. “This is what you wanted, right? You’re always saying how we should talk about our feelings more. Well I’m telling you how I feel right now. And you seem to be ignoring me!”

“Because you’re making a big deal out of nothing!” Oliver exclaims. “ _Nothing_ happened. It was just a stupid thing–you’ve done worse.”

Oh. Maybe that was the wrong thing to say.

Because the hurt is apparent in Connor’s eyes, and it’s the last thing he wants to see right now… knowing that he’s the one who put it there.

“I can’t believe you’re throwing that in my face right now.”

“Well, it’s the truth, isn’t it?” Oliver can’t fathom why he’s saying any of these things. He knows in his mind that he and Connor are in a completely different place now than they were six months ago. But he’s feeling angry. Maybe at Connor, maybe at himself, maybe simply at the situation that he put himself in. And the easiest thing for him to do right now is lash out.

“You know I would never hurt you like that again,” Connor says softly.

“No, but you did it once, and that was enough.”

 _Oh god,_ Connor looks so hurt. He looks like he’s about to cry. And Oliver forces himself to look away. He knows that the other man isn’t as confident and secure as the facade he likes to put up outside their little life together. Knowing that just makes him angrier at himself for causing this argument.

“What is this–is it–is it you getting back at me?” Connor asks softly.

“No. No, this is all… so fucking stupid.” Oliver mutters to himself. And he turns away. He needs some air… some space… just–he needs a second to think without having to look at the hurt expression on Connor’s face.

“Oliver, I’m sorry–” Connor starts, but he doesn’t get a chance to finish because Oliver is brushing past him towards the door. “Where are you going?!” He shouts after him.

“I–I just need some space.” Oliver mutters. The truth is, he just needs to get out–just for second. It’s too overwhelming. What was supposed to be a nice, simple outing with friends somehow turned into a replica of the worst fight of their relationship. And it’s bringing back too many bad memories. It nearly broke them for good the first time. 

“What? Oliver!”

“I’m just getting some air. I–I need space.”

“No!” Connor rushes towards him, reaching out for his arm. “I know what ‘needing some space’ means! We need to talk about this.”

“I–I gotta go,” Oliver says, right before he opens the door to leave. He needs to get out, he needs to leave, and he definitely needs to not think about how the tears in Connor’s eyes were last thing he saw before he closed the door behind him. 

He’s silently kicking himself in the ass as he makes his way outside. He should just go back and apologize. Connor did nothing wrong tonight. But small, petty, residual bits of insecurity keep telling him that one of these days Connor  _could_ do something wrong, again. And he could hurt him as badly as he did before. And where would that leave him?

The rational side of him tells him that he should just go home, and fix things with Connor before it’s too late to fix. But instead, he ventures out into the cold, dark night. He tightens his jacket around himself as he gets into his car. He doesn’t really have a plan. It’s already well past midnight. But it is a Friday, and he’s hoping Ashley is still awake.  

Ashely is his oldest friend in the city. They knew each other from undergrad, and when they found out they would be living in the same city, they made an agreement to both put in effort to keep in contact despite their busy schedules. It had been a few weeks since they had more contact other than random texts and Snapchat photos. But he knows that Ashley would welcome him into her home, and be more willing to put up with his problems than any of the friends he had made since moving out to Philadelphia. 

And he’s proven right when she opens the door and immediately ushers him inside. She takes his jacket, pushes him onto to couch, and proceeds to make him some hot tea–not even bothering to wait for a response when she asks if he’d like any.

“I got in a fight with Connor,” is what he says when she settles down with hot beverages for the two of them.

“What happened?” She asks gently. “Did he… did he do something stupid again?”

And there it is again that feeling of guilt that stabs him in the chest, made worse by the fact that there were no less than five missed calls on his phone from Connor.  “No! No, he did nothing wrong. I think… I think I may have been the stupid one this time.”

“Tell me what happened,” Ashley says.

And he does. He tells her everything, how he should have cut off all interaction with that random stranger as soon as he knew he was hitting on him, how he should have taken Connor’s concerns and feelings into consideration instead of brushing them off. He even admits how stupid he was because this fight could have been entirely avoided. The worst part though–using Connor’s old mistakes against him. He knows how sorry Connor is for what he did in the past, and he knows Connor has changed. He should have just apologized instead of storming out. This entire situation is his worst possible nightmare–and shockingly, it’s his own fault.

“Oliver, I get it. Trust me, I’ve been there myself.”

“I feel like such an idiot. This is the worst argument we’ve ever had… well, since we got back together.”

“These things happen, Oliver. Couples argue.” Ashley insists. “You’ll just go back, talk it through with him–without getting angry this time. You guys can fix this.”

“I’m such an idiot.” Oliver shakes his head. “I shouldn’t have left. But I couldn’t stand being in the same room as him… he looked so hurt. Why did I say those things to him?”

“Because you’re scared of being hurt again,” Ashley says gently. “I don’t blame you. But you were in the wrong tonight.”

Oliver sighs, and drops his head into his hands. “I don’t know what to do.”

“You’re going to go home, and you’re going to apologize to your boyfriend.”

“What if he doesn’t forgive me?”

“That’s ridiculous. Connor loves you. You’ll get through this.”

Yeah, Connor does love him, he knows this. And honestly, whether or not Connor would be willing to forgive him isn’t even a question in his mind. He’s more concerned with Connor being willing to forgive himself. He knows how much guilt Connor still feels for his past mistakes, bringing up the past and using his old actions against him when  _he_  was the one in the wrong tonight… he feels like a terrible person for the way he behaved. And he knows he needs to make this right. 

“I’m such an idiot,” he murmurs.

“You really love him,” Ashley says softly.

“Yeah, I do.” He says, nodding his head. “So much.”

“From what you’ve told me about him, Connor seems to really care about you too. I’ve never seen you happier than when you’re with him…”

“I have to apologize. I have to fix this–” 

Any thoughts he had about exactly how he would beg and grovel for Connor’s forgiveness are interrupted when he feels his phone go off in his pocket. He quickly reaches for it, hoping it’s another call from Connor. It’s not though. It’s a text from Michaela. 

_What the hell?!_

Oliver swallows the lump in his throat. So Connor’s with Michaela. It makes him feel slightly better knowing Connor isn’t alone in their apartment. He’s glad Connor has someone to talk to as well.

_**Yeah. I know. I’m an ass.** _

Michaela’s response is almost immediate.

_You better get your ass over here. I’m not taking care of him all night._

The burn of regret and guilt hits him again. Connor must be a mess, if the way Oliver left things is any indication. All those missed calls that Oliver refused to pick up. He pictures him crying, trembling, a complete mess because Oliver let his own insecurity get the best of him. Because he hurt him.

**_Where are you guys? Your place?_ **

_We’re at the City Tap House, and you better get here soon, because Connor’s drunk, and these idiots who don’t know any better keep hitting on him._

Shit.

Connor’s a chatty drunk. And now he’s picturing a dozen different attractive men flaunting themselves over his depressed boyfriend. Trying to comfort him, or cheer him up, while Michaela tries to brush them off. But maybe they would insist– _you can do better than him, just forget about that guy…_

“I’ve got to go.” Oliver suddenly stammers at his host.

“Is everything okay?” Ashley tries to sneak a peek at his phone.

“Yeah, um… I’ve got to pick up Connor.” He hastily grabs his jacket and tries to throw it on while also shoving his phone in his pocket, and– _where the hell are his keys?_ “He’s with his friend…”

Ashely picks up his keys from the counter where he left them and gently places them in his hand. “Hey, let me know if everything turns out okay. And I’m here if you need to talk again–”

“Thank you so much.” Oliver says, cutting her off. He gives her a quick kiss on the cheek and he’s practically out the door already. “I’m so sorry for bothering you so late at night!”

“It’s fine, Oliver–”

“Bye!” And he’s gone. 

The City Tap House is a bar a block away from Michaela’s apartment. He’s rushing and speeding and praying that there are no cops out tonight. He just wants to see Connor’s face. He wants to apologize, to say he’s sorry. He was wrong to talk to other guys like that, no matter his intentions. And Connor was right–just the thought of the other man being hit on in some bar makes him recklessly press down on the gas pedal even harder.  

And he was wrong for lashing out the way he did. He just wants to apologize and beg for his forgiveness. He wants this argument over, and for them both to be back in their home, under warm covers with their arms wrapped around each other. 

He just wants to be with Connor again. 

He nearly hits another car as he pulls into the small parking lot, but he doesn’t even care. He stumbles out of his car and rushes into the restaurant, looking around for a familiar face.

He spots them almost immediately, Connor and Michaela occupy the middle of a corner booth. Even with the dim lights of the establishment, Oliver can see the extreme look of boredom and distaste on Michaela’s face. Two ladies on either side of them block them in the booth. And Connor’s leaning over the table, trying to make his voice heard to the table over the rest of the loud chatter in the restaurant. He supports his head on one of his hands, and his other arm is currently being stroked by the clearly sympathetic women directly to his right.

Oliver slowly walks over to the table. He can’t help the smile that pulls at his lips at the sight of the other man.

Connor and Michaela both look up when he approaches.

“Oliver!”

“Oh, thank god.” Michaela gives a dramatic eye roll and turns to the woman sitting next to her. “Move!” 

There’s a great shuffling as Michaela climbs out of the booth. She looks clearly exasperated and  _so_ done with the situation that Oliver can’t help but laugh.

“Um… I thought you said…”

“I never specified  _who_  was hitting on him,” Michaela says slyly. “I just knew it would be the quickest way to get you out here.”

Oliver nods and sneaks a glance at Connor, who watches them silently.

“Thanks, Michaela.” He says softly. “For taking care of him.”

“You know, if anyone had told me at the beginning of last semester that Connor Walsh would be showing up at my place, at one in the morning, crying to me about his boyfriend, I would have called them crazy.”

“Well, thank you, anyway.”

“I trust you’ve come to make up?” She asks. “And that you’ll get him home safe?”

“Yeah. Of course.” He nods, and they say their goodbyes. Michaela sends a wave to Connor–and makes a point to ignore the other girls at the table–before she leaves.

Oliver turns to the rest of the table. “Ladies, can I have a moment with my boyfriend?”

There’s a few mild grumbles as they shuffle out of the booth. Oliver can’t help but narrow his eyes at the woman with her hand on Connor’s arm, because she looks especially reluctant to leave him.

Oliver climbs into the booth and immediately wraps his arms around the other man, who looks shy and small in the corner seat.

“I’m sorry–”

“Stop. Stop apologizing, Connor.” Oliver says softly, and he presses a gentle kiss to the other man’s hair. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I was wrong, and I got defensive and angry, and I said a lot of things that I shouldn’t have.”

Connor’s hands come up to rest on his arms wrapped around him. “So we’re okay?” He asks softly.

Oliver nods. “Come on, let’s finish this at home.” He starts getting out of the booth and raises a hand which Connor gladly takes. 

“Where’d you go?” Connor asks him as they head for the door.

“I went to Ashley’s. She managed to talk some sense into me.”

A small smile pulls at Connor’s lips. “Poor Michaela, she really did not like those girls.”

“Neither did I, the way they were all over you.” Oliver jokes.

“You know you’re it for me, right?” Connor says seriously. And the way he says it makes Oliver stop in his steps. “There’s no one else, no one I’d rather be with, no one I’ll ever want to be with… other than you.”

Oliver bites his lip as a warm feeling engulfs his chest. They don’t often have moments like this. Even with all the time they’ve known each other, and even now that they live together, Connor is still a pretty private guy. Sure there have been a few love confessions, but moments like this one are pretty rare–and pretty fantastic. He takes a step closer and wraps his arms around the other man.  

“I feel the same way, Connor.” He murmurs into his ear. And he can feel Connor’s arms come up to wrap around his waist. “Now let’s go home.”

**Author's Note:**

> [x](http://winters-blue-children.tumblr.com)


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